


I'm Only Me When I'm With You

by msred



Series: Puckleberry Shuffle [8]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/M, Finchel - Freeform, Puckleberry Friendship, Taylor Swift - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 10:57:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msred/pseuds/msred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm only up when you're not down./Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground,/It's like no matter what I do./Well you drive me crazy half the time,/The other half I'm only trying to let you know that what I feel is true./And I'm only me when I'm with you."</p><p>"I'm really, truly in love with Finn, and I can't imagine my life without him, you know?"</p><p>Rachel said the words as a question, but Puck heard them almost as more of an accusation. He shot into an upright position and pulled his arm from her body, resting it on the back of the couch. "I know that Rach! You think I was tryin' somethin' here?" His eyes were wide and his voice was laced with shock and near-anger. She only continued as if he had said nothing.</p><p>"But I love you too. Obviously, in a different way, but it's true. You're like, my rock, to quote a dangerously overused cliché. Finn lets me fly, and while you are wonderfully supportive and have always pushed me to pursue my dreams, you also keep me grounded. So I can't picture a single second of my life without you in it, either."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Only Me When I'm With You

**I'm Only Me When I'm With You – Taylor Swift ~ {www[dot]youtube[dot]com/watch?v=AlTfYj7q5gQ}**

**_Friday night beneath the stars,  
In a field behind your yard,  
You and I are paintin' pictures in the sky.  
And sometimes we don't say a thing,  
Just listen to the crickets sing.  
Everything I need is right here by my side.  
And I know everything about you,  
I don't wanna live without you._ **

"Thanks for comin' B."

"Of course Noah. Any time. I've told you that before. Your mother, too. And I don't break a promise." Rachel giggled as her friend slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her body against his.

Puck let his head fall back onto the bench behind his shoulders, his eyes scanning the stars in the clear, crisp, winter-night sky. "I just … Well, I'm glad it's you. Glad she chose you."

Rachel turned, questions in her eyes, to look at him, but his head was still back and his eyes were still focused on the stars. "Noah," she sighed, "I'm not sure I follow. I mean, who chose me? For what?"

Puck tightened his arm a little around her shoulders, tugging her so that her head landed on his shoulder. He tilted his own head to the side a bit to rest his temple on her hair. "I'm glad Sarah chose you. Ya know, to look up to, to be like. Her role model or whatever."

Rachel straightened her back and pulled away from him slightly to sit up straight. His head rose so he could meet her eyes when her small hand circled around his bicep as much as possible. "I'm her role model?" Her lips tugged upward into a small smile and her eyes shone with moisture. It was obvious how happy that made her.

"Course you are. What'd you think this was all about? I mean, are you secretly a make-up artist on the side or something?" He smirked at her as her smile grew wider. Rachel only shrugged, then shook her head 'no,' as if the make-up thing wasn't completely rhetorical. "Alright, here's the deal, Rach." His smirk disappeared and his voice grew serious. "We don't got a dad. And mom works her ass off, way too many hours." Her eyes softened as she nodded her head slowly at him. "I know you already knew all that. But here's the other thing. I'm a horrible role model." Rachel opened her mouth to object, but he only shook his head and cut her off, "Seriously. Do you know what kind of influence I would be if Sarah was a boy? I can't keep my ass straight and I do dip and throw nerds in dumpsters and do all kinds of other things I'd be ashamed if my little brother did. But the kicker is, she ain't a boy. She's a girl, in the eighth grade, and I might be the worst thing to ever happen to her."

Rachel opened her mouth again, undoubtedly to contradict him, but he waved a hand in the air and kept talking. "Sarah needs a role model, a real girl to help her, to show her what she should be. I'm just glad that girl's you. I mean, Quinn lived here for a few months, and Q's a bitch on the best of days, but Quinn pregnant, holy shit. Not who I want my little sister to be, 'specially not the pregnant part," he grunted. "And I don't even want to think about what would've happened if she had decided that she wanted to be like Santana or Zizes. So really, I can't even think of words to describe how happy I am that, of all the girls in the world, all the girls I've opened her up to, you're the one she decided to follow."

"All I did was curl her hair and brush on a little make-up. It's her first dance, Noah. These things are important for a girl, and it was really no big deal for me," Rachel tried to make light of the situation, knowing that Puck wasn't one for deep, emotional conversations. "I was more than happy to provide that help. It's not like I have a little sister of my own to do these things with, you know." She smiled at him softly before leaning back against the bench and dropping her head back onto his shoulder.

The pair sat in silence, the crickets singing a chorus around them, for neither knew how long. At some point in the evening, Rachel decided that trying to stare at the stars from her upright position on the bench was just too painful, so she slid down until her back was flat on the wooden slats of the bench and the back of her head rested just above his left knee.

When he finally became conscious of the fact that his right hand was running through the silky waves splayed across his thigh, Puck decided that he had to say _something._ Rachel was his best friend, and while they both knew that there was nothing sexual between them (he realized she was his best friend when he saw her walking out of glee one day in the most criminally short skirt he had ever seen and it hit him that although he had shared three classes with her that day, he hadn't once thought of what might be under the skirt), he also knew that someone who wasn't quite so sure of that fact could easily misinterpret their position in his backyard. "So, umm," he cleared his throat raggedly but didn't take his hand from her hair, "where's Finn tonight?"

If Rachel noticed the tension in his voice (and he felt sure that she did, girl noticed everything and she knew him better than his freakin' mom), she didn't let on. Instead she only hummed contentedly as his fingertips grazed her scalp. "Working for Burt. Inventory. Both of the boys got roped in. Blaine too. You kind of saved me," she giggled.

"Yeah?" he smirked though she didn't actually open her eyes to look at him and she nodded her head and laughed almost conspiratorially. "Glad to be of service, then." He waited a moment before speaking again, this silence infinitely more awkward than the long one he had recently broken. "And, uh, when's he gonna be done? I mean, you needa go? Did you tell him …" He cursed himself internally. He may not have been the brightest guy in the world, but he was better than that. Somehow, all that suave smoothness he possessed around chicks disappeared around Rachel. It was like he was a different person, a _real_ person, with her.

"I don't need to go." Rachel continued to pretend that she didn't know he was nervous, uptight about the idea of what Finn might think about the two of them being alone together in his backyard, in the dark, with her head in his lap. She wasn't nervous about it, so she thought that as long as she kept her composure, Noah would eventually follow suit. "I called him as soon as I got off the phone with you to let him know what was going on. He actually accused me," though she made it a point not to pause or even breathe after the phrase, still she felt his fingers stiffen in her hair, "of making it up or at least pushing myself on Sarah just to get out of helping at the shop!" She laughed and Puck let out a breath and resumed combing his fingers through her hair. "I told him to call when he finishes up. And showers," her nose wrinkled involuntarily, "and we'd go from there."

"So, he didn't mind?"

Rachel breathed out an exaggerated sigh. "Noah, you are one of my best friends. Quite possibly my very best friend. Finn understands that. It was a bit difficult in the beginning, given our … our _past_ , but I made it perfectly clear to him that while I love him and want nothing more than to be with him, _faithfully_ , no pun intended," she huffed; while she loved the significance the song held for them, she hated that no one could mention being 'faithful' without someone making reference to the song, "I have no plans whatsoever of letting go of our friendship."

"Rach, I'm really glad that -," Puck didn't get a chance to finish his thought, because they both turned their heads toward the house when they heard the she screen door bang against the frame.

"Dude!" Puck stiffened as he heard Finn's voice and saw his long legs bringing him quickly toward where he and Rachel still rested on the bench. "How could you?" Puck shifted uncomfortably, anxious to get off the bench so that he at least had a chance at defending himself, but Rachel showed no signs of moving so he could get up. "You call with some bogus little sister drama that gets my girl out of having to do inventory with the rest of us, the least you could do is come up with something for me too! Hey baby," he lowered his voice and spoke to Rachel in the tone he reserved for her.

Rachel felt the tension in Puck's legs relax considerably as Finn talked and Puck realized that, at most, Finn was annoyed that he had to work and Rachel didn't. She heard the deep chuckle that radiated up from his chest and out of his throat, and when his hand lifted completely from her head, she was pretty sure he was flipping Finn off. "Hi Finn!" she called out brightly, trying to break up this juvenile 'fight' before it really got started. She had been in the middle of those too many times before, and since her current position ensured that she would be _literally_ in the middle of it this time, probably resulting in their attentions being turned on her and her being tickled until she cried, she couldn't let them get started. "Missed you," she puckered her lips, playfully asking her boyfriend for a 'hello' kiss. Finn only wrinkled his nose and shook his head, making a vague motion with his hand toward her head and Puck's groin as if to say, ' _Not when you're that close to his junk._ ' She only rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.

Instead, Finn bumped his fist against Puck's before walking to the opposite end of the bench. He lifted Rachel's ankles off the armrest so that her legs stuck straight up into the air and he dropped into the now empty space. He brought her legs down so that her calves rested atop his own legs and curled a hand over her knee. "So, what'choo guys doin'? Ooh! Puck, did you teach her that game where you try to make up your own new con -, consta-, pictures in the stars?"

Rachel looked between the boys as both laughed lightly. "I think we'll have to come up with some new ones, she probably won't appreciate the ones we used to come up with," Puck added, still chuckling. Rachel groaned and tried get up to go into the house, but with one of her boys on each end holding her down, it wasn't going to happen.

**_I'm only up when you're not down.  
Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground,  
It's like no matter what I do.  
Well you drive me crazy half the time,  
The other half I'm only trying to let you know that what I feel is true.  
And I'm only me when I'm with you._ **

"I said, **_NO_**!" Rachel stomped her foot and her face grew red as Santana watched from the choir room door in amusement. There were some things she had missed in her time away from New Directions. Seeing Rachel Berry losing her mind was definitely one of them. It was just so freakin' funny to watch the midget flip.

"Berry! Geez, will you just -,"

"No, I will not _just_!" She cut Puck off before he could even finish his thought. "Kiss was fine for your attempt at theatr-,"

"Kiss was awesome theatricality! And wasn't that the point? To learn some … presence, or whatever? Why learn it if we ain't gonna use it?" Puck crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at her. There was no way that he was going to let her win this one.

"God Noah, you're … you're, stubborn, and pig-headed, and just plain incorrigible!" Rachel ripped her hands from her hips just to slam them down onto the piano and stare him down with wide eyes.

And that was it, Puck's breaking point. "AND YOU'RE FUCKIN' INFURIATING!"

Mr. Schuester finally decided to intervene, his hands raised in front of him in a symbol of peace as he made his way toward the screaming duo. Meanwhile, Santana sashayed across the room to join the rest of her recently regained teammates. "Awesome," she smirked as she stepped around Finn and dropped into the seat directly behind Artie's wheelchair. "Maybe as my welcome back gift, Puck is going to finally kill RuPaul and put us out of our misery and once and for all."

"Nah," Artie turned to face her after sharing a glance with Finn. There was a lot Santana didn't know after her months with the TroubleTones, first and foremost being that Rachel and Puck were almost disturbingly close best friends. Puck liked to joke about their 'Jew-Connection,' but some of the others were starting to think there was really something to it. They were just too in synch sometimes. Between both Puck and Finn being almost always on her side, it didn't usually work out well for anyone opposing Rachel. "This is like, foreplay or something."

"Dude!" Finn reached across the space between them to punch Artie's shoulder just hard enough to make him wince. Yeah, ok, kid was in a wheelchair, but that shit wasn't cool and he knew it.

"Sorry," Artie dipped his head and looked up at Finn sheepishly before turning back to Santana. "What I meant was 'completely platonic, non-sexual foreplay.' Totally friend stuff. In five minutes he'll be playing his guitar and she'll be singing and when they're done they'll go on and on about how awesome the other was."

Santana scoffed. "Yeah Wheels, ya didn't really need to add the 'non-sexual' part. That's just assumed when Berry's involved."

Artie smirked and started to say something else, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw the deep crimson shade that had overtaken Finn's face and the way he was staring at him. He decided that unless he wanted to get punched again, it probably wasn't the best idea to share with Santana how, the weekend before sectionals, the rest of the club had shown up to Rachel's for a pre-rehearsal brunch only to walk in on Finn eating much more than bagels. Besides, that was information that Santana would love to have (she would have never let either of them hear the end of it), and she deserved to be punished a bit for defecting from New Directions, even if she did decide to come back a mere two weeks before regionals. (They didn't doubt that the other club's failure to make it to regionals had more than a little to do with that.)

Neither of the boys said anything else to Santana; they each had their own reasons for disliking the girl, in addition to the obvious almost-screwing-over-the-club thing. Besides, Mr. Schue had finally managed to calm both Rachel and Puck enough to apparently get them to give the song a chance (or to get Rachel to give it a chance, since it was Puck's song in the first place). Puck stood near the band, tuning his guitar quietly, while Rachel leaned against the piano on the other side of the room, gripping the microphone tightly with her back to Puck.

Even when the conversation was pleasant, everyone stopped talking when Rachel and Puck got up to perform. It had been a little awkward when Mr. Schue first suggested that the regionals duet should go to the two friends rather than to Rachel and Finn, but once Finn got over it (which was surprisingly quickly, once the initial shock wore off) everyone else did too. And anyway, once Puck pulled out his guitar and suggested he include it in the competition performance, they all wondered why none of them had thought of that before. After all, Jesse had sat at that piano for like, ages, the first year New Directions went to regionals, and, let's be honest, Puck looks much better playing a guitar than Jesse does a piano. Every song the duo had tried out so far had sounded amazing to the ears of the other glee club members, but every time, the two declared, almost in unison, that the song they had just finished wasn't _it._

To be honest, Rachel had never heard the song she was fighting so hard against. She hadn't even looked at the sheet music Puck had shoved under her nose when he walked into the choir room. Instead, she heard the word 'Kiss' somewhere in his rant about how he had found the 'perfect fuckin' song for regionals' and stopped listening. Sure, 'Beth' was a lovely song, but she knew there was no way he would suggest singing it, and as far as she knew, all their other songs were just a lot of percussion and screaming with the one obligatory guitar solo. There was no way their perfect number could be found on any Kiss album. The only reason she finally succumbed to Mr. Schuester's urgings to give the song a chance was because she wanted to hurry up and prove just how unacceptable it was.

As suspected, the song began with a heavy drum beat and a lengthy guitar riff. By the time Puck finally began to sing, she still hadn't actually looked at the music; there was no way she was going to lead this thing off. As he sang, she tried not to let herself appreciate how good his voice sounded all strained and gravelly. That didn't matter. This was a show choir competition they were preparing for, not a rock concert. But refusing to be anything less than professional (right, because that line hadn't been crossed already …), Rachel picked up her music and skimmed ahead, still listening to the words seemingly ripping themselves from Puck's throat.

As she read, Rachel realized that while the song didn't exactly sound like the ones they would normally use for competition, the words were actually not bad. Without making a conscious decision to do so, and without turning to face him, Rachel quietly joined him for the end of the first verse, her voice really only harmonizing under his as she sang out the words, "'Cause I know what I'm doing, and I know what I want."

Puck couldn't control his smirk when he saw Rachel pick up the sheet music to skim over it as he sang the first verse of the song. He knew it was only a matter of time before he wore her down. See, here's the thing. He knew Rachel. Like, he _knew_ her. And he had known, when he heard the song on his iPod the previous night, that she would throw a fit about singing anything by a band as 'un-classy' as Kiss, but that once she heard the lyrics, she wouldn't be able to resist. Fact was, the words were 100% Rachel. Nothing was ever enough for that girl, and she would never ever stop until she had exactly what she wanted. So yeah, "Never Enough?" Perfect song.

When the chorus began, Rachel turned toward Puck to find him standing with his guitar only a foot or so from her. She sang those words with him much more forcefully, shaking her hips a little to the beat. By the time the chorus ended and the second verse was ready to begin, everyone in the room could tell how worked up she was. Taking a few steps back to leave Rachel fully in the center of everyone's attention, Puck let her sing the next verse alone. The girl rocked it, simple as that. She was throwing her head back and stomping her feet to the beat and belting out the lyrics like they were her own personal anthem. (They kind of were.) He hadn't seen her work a crowd like that since the girls did that crazy-hot mash-up of Bon Jovi and the Stones, and for a second the thought crossed his mind that if _show choir judges_ would actually appreciate the sight of tight leather wrapped around those even tighter female bodies, he would totally throw out the suggestion for the girls to dig those costumes back out.

The song finished much more strongly than it had started, both Rachel and Puck fully into it and performing as if their lives depended on it. When they finished to a standing ovation (mostly – Artie couldn't stand and Santana wouldn't), Rachel was breathing heavily, the hand holding the microphone hanging limply at her side and the other pressed tightly to her chest. She opened her mouth to say something once the crowd had quieted, and, afraid she was still going to try to deny that the song was _the one_ , Puck cut her off.

"Ok, so I know that like, the solos and duets are usually ballads or some shit like that, but I mean, that'd be kinda weird for us, and you can't deny that this song is awesome. And we still gotta have an anthem anyway, and while this may not be the first thing you would think of, it's totally _our_ anthem," he waved his hand to indicate their teammates, glad to see that they were all smiling and nodding their agreement. "And we can like, take out the guitar solo in the middle and shorten the last couple rounds of the chorus, and maybe everyone else can come in with us the last time around." He spoke quickly, letting the words pour out of him before she had a chance to interrupt. "Besides," he smirked, regaining his composure and returning to his normal pace, "we're a coupla good-lookin' Jews. It's _natural."_ He had to laugh when her hand flew from her own chest to his shoulder in an attempt to shove him backward.

"Okay, first of all, Noah," she rolled her eyes, "you can't just keep using that to try to get what you want from me." The argument had become a bit of a running joke between the two, Puck using it any time it was even remotely relevant, and sometimes when it wasn't. He was actually kind of proud of himself this time; the Jewish thing was totally relevant, being Kiss and all. "And secondly," he tried to clear the grin from his face as she continued, "your desire to argue, as usual, is premature and, to be honest, entirely unwarranted. I was actually just going to say that I'm sorry for not giving your song choice a chance in the beginning, and if the rest of the club agrees, I would be happy to perform that number with you at regionals. It was wonderful. _You_ were wonderful."

A collective cheer rose from the club, and even Mr. Schue. They had their duet. They had their anthem. They had their opening number (it hadn't been discussed, but, _duh_ ). Things were falling into place. "Nah babe," he draped an arm over her shoulder after replacing his guitar on its stand and led her toward the two empty seats next to Finn, who was still grinning up at her like she hung the moon. " _We_ were wonderful."

**_Just a small town boy and girl,  
Livin' in a crazy world.  
Tryin' to figure out what is and isn't true.  
And I don't try to hide my tears,  
My secrets or my deepest fears.  
Through it all nobody gets me like you do.  
And you know everything about me,  
You say that you can't live without me._ **

Puck waited impatiently after ringing Rachel's doorbell, barely resisting the urge to subsequently pound his fist against the wood. Instead he ran his hands over his wrinkled t-shirt and discreetly checked to make sure he didn't smell. He got a faint whiff of chlorine, but that was ok. At least it smelled clean. He had been in the middle of cleaning the pool at one of the three condo complexes that now employed him when Rachel's dad called. It took him less than a second to pull the rumpled shirt from the waistband of his jeans and jump in his truck. It felt like it had taken him less time to get there than it was taking for someone to open the front door. Seriously, why the Hell was it taking so long for someone to answer the door?

"Noah, thank you so much for coming over." The door swung open and Rachel's father was talking before Puck could even actually see him around the door.

"No problem." Puck nodded at the small Jewish man directly in front of him as he entered the house, then to the taller African-American man standing a bit farther back in the foyer. "Mr. Berry. Sir." He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked around as he spoke again. "So, where is she?"

The smaller man spoke again, wringing his hands nervously in front of himself. "She's – she's up in her room. She hasn't come out at all. Leroy heard her through the door when he went to get her for dinner." Puck looked from Hiram to his husband, who only looked back at him, his expression stony. Both men loved their daughter more than life itself, but while to Hiram she was a little star, one to be pampered and showered with praise before being admired from the glow of a spotlight, to Leroy she was his little princess. Leroy wanted his little girl protected; Puck sometimes thought he would wrap her in bubble wrap if he could just to make sure no one or nothing could hurt her. Leroy Berry was probably the only father he had ever met who seemed to prefer having his daughter spend time with Puck than with Hudson, knowing that Puck understood, and even mirrored, his feelings.

"And, I'm so, so sorry to bother you. I know you were working over at the condo, and your job is extremely important right now. With school being over and you leaving in a few weeks you need to save up all the money you can get." Hiram was still talking and Puck wanted more than anything to just blow past him and up the stairs to Rachel's room. He did have some manners though (most of them learned in that very house), and he didn't want to get on either man's bad side. Especially Leroy's. He was definitely the more masculine of the two, to put it delicately. "And of course, we would normally call Finn in a situation like this, you know. But since it all started when he left a while ago -,"

"Wait? Finn was here? And that's when all this started, the freak-out or whatever?" Puck's hands began to clench at his sides. Mr. Berry hadn't told him much of anything on the phone earlier, only that Rachel was in her room, apparently crying, and refusing to come out or speak to either of them. He certainly hadn't mentioned Finn's name in any of it.

"Well, right after he left. She seemed fine until then." Hiram was a relatively fidgety man in general, and especially so under stress. Puck noticed that his hands and feet hadn't stopped moving since he opened the door. He wanted to feel badly for him, but all he could think about was Rachel up there alone. Since Finn left.

"Did he do something? I mean, you don't think he …"

"No." Puck almost jumped when Leroy spoke. He hadn't exactly forgotten that he was in the room, but the older man hadn't said anything either, and Puck wasn't really expecting his voice. He turned toward Leroy as he continued. "Finn may not be the brightest young man I've ever met, but he's sweet, and gentle, and I believe he truly cares about my daughter. He still had that that goofy smile on his face when he left, and he very cordially bid us both good evening. I'm certain he didn't break up with her. To be honest, I'm _not_ certain that he has anything to do with whatever is going on up there right now, but the timing was enough for me to convince Hiram to call you instead."

Puck only nodded. He agreed with Rachel's father. Finn could be an idiot sometimes, but he really was a good guy who was almost sickeningly in love with Rachel. If he was in a good mood when he left, it was almost guaranteed that he didn't do anything to upset her. He lifted his eyebrows and jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the stairs, silently asking permission to go up. Leroy nodded and crossed the foyer to drop an arm over Hiram's shoulders and guide him to the living room.

After taking the steps two at a time, Puck rapped his knuckles gently on Rachel's door. He could hear her sniffling on the other side of it. She shot back a half-hearted refusal, thinking that she was once again speaking to one of her fathers.

"Rach, come on, let me -," he stopped when the door swung open and Rachel fell into his arms. Her gentle sniffles quickly evolved into full-on, body-wracking sobs. Puck walked her into the room, using his foot to close the door behind him, and led her to the bed. He gingerly sat on the edge and pulled her down onto his lap so that her face fell into the crook of his neck, her hands still fisting the fabric of his t-shirt. "Shh, slow down babe. Ya gotta breathe." He rubbed one hand slowly up and down her back, waiting for her to calm down.

Puck sat on Rachel's bed, cradling her on his lap and letting her sob into his shirt, for probably five minutes before he said anything else. When she had finally managed to take several deep breaths without that tell-tale catch in her throat, he ventured to speak again. "Now, you wanna tell me what's goin' on here? Or you just tryin' to give me and your dads a heart attack?"

"It's horrible, Noah." She loosened her grip on his shirt just slightly. " _I'm_ horrible." She still refused to lift her head from his shoulder.

"No Rach. Ridiculous, yeah. Especially now. But you're not horrible. Never. I mean, ya know, that whole crack house thing wasn't your finest moment, but …" He trailed off, hoping that he would get some kind of reaction from her – a laugh, an eye roll, a slap to the face, _something_.

She ignored what she knew was an attempt to get her riled up and distract her from what was really bothering her, and pushed herself away from him quickly to look into his eyes. "You don't get it."

"You're right. I don't. But only cause you haven't told me a fuckin' thing!" He stared back at her with as much force as her eyes held. "So come on," his voice softened, "enlighten me. Let me in." He tapped her temple with his forefinger.

"What if I'm making a huge mistake?" Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper and he tilted his head to look at her, curious. He still wasn't sure what she was talking about. "New York, what if it's … what if I'm not good enough?"

"What the fuck, Berry? When have you ever even _thought_ those words?" He stared at her in confusion. "I mean, shit, you're the most confident person I've ever known. All you've ever talked about is how you're gonna go to new York and take Broadway by storm or whatever. Where's this comin' from?"

"It's Finn, he –,"

"Wait, what the fuck do you mean, 'It's Finn.' He better not've said shit. He better notta toldja you weren't good enough!"

"No Noah, of course not. It's just that, well, he's following me. And in order to be with me while I go after what I want, he's giving up so much – his chance to go to a school here and play football, even in a walk-on capacity, his job working for Burt, he's leaving his family and friends behind. Noah, he's doing all that for me. And you, you're going to New York with us, and you don't even have a college to go to or anything. You're just going to go, and get a job, and play your guitar, and while I'm sure you'll be great at it, it won't be easy. Both of you are going to New York with me, Finn's going _because_ of me, and while I don't expect you to admit it, I know that our going influenced your decision. And what if I fail? What if I'm not good enough, and I fail, and I let Finn, and you, down? Then he gave up all those things for no reason and then he'll hate me. Sometimes I think maybe it was better when no one liked me, because then I didn't have to worry about anything except myself." Rachel had started to sniffle again between words, and tears were running freely down her cheeks. "I can't do it Noah, I can't," she choked out. "I can't let him give up all those things just to go to New York and watch me fail so he can hate me for it later."

"Look at me. Right now." His tone was forceful and she didn't dare refuse his request. "First of all babe, yeah, you guys did influence me. But it's awesome that you won't let me be a Lima Loser. If anything I should be thanking you. Besides, I'm a badass, I'll be fine in New York no matter what happens to you and Hudson." He smirked and she let out a hiccup that sounded suspiciously like a small giggle. "Second, you're being crazy right now. You're not going to fail, Rachel. Will you be perfect and get everything right every single time? No, of course not. No one does. But you sure as shit won't fail. I'd bet everything I got on that. You're amazing." Rachel lifted a hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "But, you know what else?" She just stared at him with those Bambi eyes. "Even if you did fail, and you won't!" he added quickly, "Finn would love you just the same. He could never hate you, Rach. Take my word for it. And all those things you think he's 'giving up,'" _shit, he just used air quotes_ , "he doesn't see it that way. He's not giving up anything 'cause he'll have you."

"You think so?" She still wasn't quite back to normal, but her voice sounded hopeful, which was much better than any other way she had sounded that night.

"I know so. Much as I fight it, he makes me listen to him talk about feelings and shit. Not as much as you," he rolled his eyes playfully, "but still."

"Thank you, Noah," Rachel smiled and slid off his lap to sit beside him on the bed, reaching for the tissues on her nightstand. "I'm really glad you're my best friend. I can't talk to anyone else like this. I'm not sure what I'd do without you."

**_I'm only up when you're not down.  
Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground.  
It's like no matter what I do,  
Well you drive me crazy half the time,  
The other half I'm only trying to let you know that what I feel is true.  
And I'm only me when I'm with you._ **

It was bound to happen eventually. They just didn't expect it to happen first semester freshman year. It wasn't common for freshmen to be in Tisch's fall musical, and it was downright unusual for a freshman to land a major role. But of course, Rachel Berry tended not to be 'common' or 'usual.' So when opening weekend of the show fell on the same weekend as Burt and Carole's anniversary, she very sincerely expressed her regret to Finn that she would not be able to go home with him to celebrate the special occasion, but she also explained to him that this was a situation that they would have to get used to and that they should treat this as a learning experience for the future. Finn wasn't happy about it (of course he had wanted Rachel to go with him, she had been at the wedding, she should be there for the anniversary too, and to be honest, he sometimes thought his mom was happier about seeing Rach when they came home on break than she was about seeing her own son), but he couldn't be angry about it either, and it never crossed his mind to ask her to drop out of the show or even give up a few performances to her understudy so she could go with him (which she probably would have done with the right combination of sad-eyes, kisses, and _"but it would mean so much to my mom"_ guilt).

So, the couple came up with the best compromise they could manage. Finn would go to opening night on Friday and accompany Rachel briefly to the cast party afterward before catching the red-eye back to Columbus. Sam had agreed to pick Finn up and let him crash on his couch at OSU for a few hours before then loaning him his car for the weekend to go to Lima. (Rachel sent along a double-batch of 'thank you' cookies for Sam's trouble and promised to show him the same hospitality whenever he wanted to come to New York, ignoring Puck's protests that there already wasn't enough room in the tiny apartment he shared with the couple.) Since Finn had purposely built his class schedule around having only one (unavoidable) Monday class, in which he so far had perfect attendance, he was going to be able to get an extra day at home before returning to New York Monday evening. Finn got to go spend the important weekend with his family, and Rachel got to have her adoring boyfriend in the front row at her first ever New York performance. The only person truly unhappy about the arrangement was Kurt, who now had to make the flight back to Ohio alone because just hearing the words 'red-eye' sent him into hysterics.

Really, the plan couldn't have gone off any better. Rachel was brilliant as Reno in the school's production of 'Anything Goes,' and Finn was front row, center (with Puck only a few rows back – Rachel could only manage to negotiate one front row seat out of one of her senior cast mates) with a gorgeous bouquet of lilies. He was perfectly charming as she introduced him to her cast mates and the crew members at the cast party after the show, and Rachel was gracious and sweet when she saw him into a cab to head back home to get his luggage and then on to the airport. Considering that they both expected the separation to be one of the harder things they had done, they were pleasantly surprised at how well it all seemed to go.

And they continued to be pleasantly surprised on Saturday when Finn called Rachel as he pulled into Burt and Carole's driveway to let her know that both he and Sam's car were safe and sound in Lima. Of course they missed one another, that was a given, but there was no anger or bitterness or any of those other horrible feelings that Rachel secretly feared one of them (her) would experience. So, yeah, all things considered, the weekend was actually going quite well. Until Puck came home Saturday afternoon while Rachel was getting ready to go to the theatre. Then it all went to Hell. Because Puck didn't just come into the apartment. He _burst_ into the apartment, banging doors and slinging curses.

"Fuckin' bitch! Wish she'd just … shit!"

Rachel jumped, almost poking herself in the eye with the handle of her hairbrush as she lifted it toward her bangs. Puck never exactly 'glided' into the apartment, but the way she could hear him moving, almost violently, around the living room told her that this was no regular day. Abandoning her hair and make-up, it would be redone at the theatre anyway, Rachel walked slowly toward the living room and, not seeing him there, into Puck's bedroom.

"Noah?" She peeked around the doorframe and watched as he spun away from his closet and toward her. "I-Is everything ok? I mean, you don't sound good."

"Shitty day, B, shitty day."

"Would you like to talk about it, Noah? I'm a wonderful listener, you know." She slipped quietly into the room and sat gingerly in Puck's desk chair. It was true. She was a wonderful listener, and he knew it. In fact, they had been through this routine several times. Generally when this happened, Puck came home pissed about one thing or another, some days his temper was about as long as the short hairs framing his 'hawk, and as soon as Finn so much as looked at him, Puck would lose it and storm into his bedroom. That's where Rachel would come in, usually easing her way into the room with some kind of edible offering. She would sit in the room for as long as it took to get him to actually talk about whatever was bothering him, not saying a word until he was finished. Sometimes, that was all it took to get him to calm down, just saying it all out loud. Other times Rachel would have to give input of her own, saying whatever it took to get him to look at her with those soft, hazel, _Noah_ eyes again. The exchange could take anywhere from 10 minutes to an hour or more. One time, after a particularly horrid conversation with Quinn about Beth (Shelby still allowed the teens to see the toddler on a fairly regular basis, but Quinn had never fully moved on from what they all referred to as 'the breakdown' senior year, so Shelby was much more generous toward Puck, which obviously did not sit well with Quinn), Rachel stayed holed up in Puck's room with him for nearly three hours. The Thai food Finn had ordered for her was long cold by the time she came out and Finn was actually in bed, but she didn't mind. Puck was her best friend, and having him hurting was almost as hard on her as it was on him.

"Don't you gotta get to the theatre?" His words sounded confident, but Rachel could see the hope in his eyes. He wanted her to say no.

"I've got time Noah."

Puck blew out a long breath before starting. "So you know how I been kinda hangin' out at that studio, where that producer said he liked my playin' and might be able to get me in some time, ya know, if they really needed somebody?" Rachel nodded. She did know. That had led to a totally different type of night in the Hudson-Berry-Puckerman residence. Puck had been playing in the music store where he worked part-time when some relatively important producer came in to buy some emergency guitar strings. The producer had taken a quick liking to Puck and told him that he might be able to get him a studio musician job (back-up to start with, of course) if one of the regulars was ever unavailable. Since then Puck spent probably 80% of his free time in the studio just waiting for someone to need him. The producer really didn't seem to mind; he wasn't lying when he said that he liked Puck, and he really wanted to get him into the business before someone else inevitably snatched him up.

"Well," Puck continued, "I thought it was my fuckin' lucky day. One of the guys had a massive fuckin' hangover. I mean, he said he was sick, but I know hangovers, and that's what that shit was." Rachel barely flinched at his language. She was used to Puck by now, and when he was angry, she knew it was best to let it go. "So I thought I was gettin' my fuckin' chance. I went in, got tuned up, shit Rach, I was ready." She smiled softly at him. So far, it all seemed like good news, but she knew the other shoe had to drop somewhere in there. "Then this little pop-princess diva bitch, and _no_ , I will _not_ tell you who it was, comes strutting in. At first she's all sugary sweet, sayin' all the right shit to everybody. Then her eyes zone in on me and she's like a fuckin' wolf. I mean geez Rach, she made me feel bad for every girl I ever tried to hook up with. I didn't realize that's what I was doing to people!"

"Wait!" Rachel's eyes were wide and her voice dripped with shock. She didn't know if she was more surprised by what he was saying (miss pop-princess diva was coming onto him) or what he wasn't (he actually felt bad about treating girls like his own personal toys). "She was hitting on you?"

"Fuck yeah she was hitting on me!" Puck, who had been steadily pacing a path from his closet to the bedroom door then to the dresser and back, dropped onto his bed and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"And …" Rachel tried to think of a delicate way to say what came next. "That was … a problem?"

"Yeah, ok, normally I'd be all over that shit." Rachel lowered her head to hide her smirk. He didn't need to tell her that. She was his best friend after all, she knew him better than anyone. "But this is different, B. I mean, this shit is important to me. I'm tryin' to show these people that I'm like, professional, here. My future's way more important than some easy lay, ya know?" She only nodded, waiting for him to continue. "Besides, she was all green eyes and fair skin and blonde hair in a high, tight ponytail, and I could tell after two words how fake she was. I don't need that mess."

Rachel stood from the chair and crossed the room to sit next to Puck on the bed and run her hand lightly over his back. One part of her wanted to tell her friend how proud she was of him for gaining the maturity that she was currently seeing in him, but the rest of her just wanted to hug him and whisper promises that everything would be ok. She settled for continuing to rub his back and waiting for him to finish his story.

"So here I am, tryin' to be like, professional and polite and let her down easy and shit, and she just loses it. Seriously! Once she figured out that I wasn't gonna bring her back here and, like, rock her world, or whatever," Rachel could tell he was really bothered by this situation, because he had much better innuendos than that, "she flipped. She started screamin' about how she'd never heard of me and I couldn't possibly be good enough to work with her and, whatever. I just kinda stopped listening. Finally, they said maybe it was best if I leave."

"Oh Noah, I'm so sorry. Really, that's awful and unfair and it never should have happened to you. If she had listened to you play for even a minute she would know what I know, which is that you are incredible, and she never would have let you walk out of that studio."

Puck slipped an arm around Rachel's shoulder and tugged her to him so that her head dropped to his shoulder. "Thanks, B. I'm just scared, ya know?" Rachel didn't answer, nodding her head silently. "I mean, Jeff said he'd call if another chance came up, but they probably won't even let me back in the place now. What if I blew any chance I ever had? I don't wanna be stuck sleepin' on yours and Hudson's couch for the rest of my life."

"Oh Noah," Rachel lifted her head and waited for him to turn and look her in the eye, "don't be silly. You'll always have a room, wherever we live."

"Cute, B." Puck leaned into her and nudged her with his shoulder. "But seriously, what if I just blew my one shot?"

"Noah, you didn't blow anything. Trust me." Rachel lifted a hand to the back of his head to run her fingertips over his scalp. "You're an amazing musician, and apparently, quite professional. You're going to make it. And if Jeff doesn't want you back when you show up there on Monday afternoon, then someone else is just going to snatch you up and he'll be the one to regret this day, not you." Puck squeezed her shoulder with the hand that was wrapped around her and dropped a soft kiss onto her hair.

As far as "Puck calming sessions" went, that one was pretty average. After another 10 minutes of Rachel listening to him say quite disparaging things about the young woman whom he had tried to work with that day and her offering him sincere and heartfelt, and completely truthful, reassurances that he would have plenty of opportunities to make it as a musician in the future, the two were laughing about something asinine that the starlet had said before she had him kicked out of the studio. Rachel had long ago stopped getting that feeling of accomplishment when she managed to talk him down from whatever ledge he was on at the moment, and instead felt only peace and happiness when she literally saw and felt the tension slide out of his body.

"Alright B, time for you to go." Rachel followed Puck's line of sight to the alarm clock on his night stand and realized that she needed to be in her make-up chair at the theatre in just over 20 minutes. She nodded her head before standing and crossing the room toward the door. "You needa get ready for your show," Puck stood and followed a few steps behind her, "and I need a beer."

Rachel stopped cold two steps from the doorway. "Oh no!" Her hand flew to her mouth and she spun on her heel to face him.

"What?" Puck's eyes grew and he looked a little panicked. "You're not late are ya? I mean, you had to be there at five yesterday, I just figured …"

"Finn's not here." Rachel's hand fell away from her mouth and both hands began twisting the hem of her shirt. She wouldn't meet his eyes and she looked oddly guilty.

"No shit B. Where you been?"

"No, Noah," she whined. "Finn. Isn't. Here."

"Rach," Puck sighed. "It's fine. Really. You go to your show, I'll have a couple beers, and if I get really bored, I'll come watch you." He gripped her by her shoulders and spun her so she was again facing the door.

Ok, so the problem was that Rachel's heart-to-heart was only one half of 'Operation Fix Puck's Shitty Day.' Once Rachel had him calmed and feeling better about whatever it was that had Puck so pissed off, Finn always took over for Part II. It didn't always happen immediately, but if Finn was not around or was unavailable, it _always_ happened no later than the following night. Finn's job was simple: find a bar, entertain Puck while he drank until didn't want to anymore, then get him back home safely. Both members of the couple agreed that they were more than happy with the arrangement and wouldn't want to trade jobs for anything.

"No." Rachel planted her feet and crossed her arms over her chest.

"No? You mean I can't come to the show?"

Rachel huffed and rolled her eyes. "Of course that's not what I meant Noah. You know I would love nothing more than to have you in the audience again. But I can't just leave you hanging out to dry. Finn won't be home for two more days, and that's just unacceptable."

"Well babe, we can't just blink our eyes and get him back, so I don't think we have a choice."

"Of course we do. I'll go out with you. After the show of course, but we'll do it. I want to do it." Puck didn't miss that Rachel was wearing her determined show-face, and he wondered how much she really wanted to do it, and how much she wanted to do it just because it was what she thought he needed. Sure, going out with Finn was always an integral part of making him feel better (just as the same routine was a crucial step in cheering Finn up when he had a bad day at school, and curling up on one end of the couch while Rachel snuggled in Finn's lap on the other end with vegan hot cocoa and a Barbra movie was the only way to reassure her when she was feeling inadequate about something), but he didn't want her to put herself out just to make it happen.

"You sure B? You don't have to, ya know. I promise I'll be fine."

"I'm positive." Her smile shifted a bit from determined to sincere and it reached her eyes more. "Santana would be so proud of me." Santana's parting gift to the three just days before they left Ohio was a surprisingly authentic looking set of fake ids. Rachel had insisted that she had no plans to use such a thing and tried to avoid even taking the card from the Latina, but Santana shoved it in her back pocket and insisted that she keep it, "in case of emergency." Rachel had absolutely no clue what kind of emergency could require the use of such a thing, until Finn came home with his first (and so far only) college F. Puck had insisted on getting Finn out of the apartment and getting his mind off the failed paper, but Finn had refused to go anywhere without Rachel at his side. To say that Rachel was apprehensive when they first got into the bar would be an understatement, but Puck got a glass of wine into her and she quickly loosened up just enough to be fun. She hadn't used the id again since, but Puck's day from Hell felt like as good a time as any.

"Since when do you care what Satan thinks?" he scoffed. "Besides screw her pride, you're _my_ best friend, and I'm damn proud. And grateful. Don't know what I would do without ya babe."

**_When I'm with anybody else it's so hard to be myself.  
Only you can tell,  
That I'm only up when you're not down.  
Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground.  
It's like no matter what I do,  
Well you drive me crazy half the time,  
The other half I'm only trying to let you know that what I feel is true.  
And I'm only me,  
Who I wanna be,  
Well, I'm only me when I'm with you.  
With you._ **

A night at the theatre wasn't exactly Puck's idea of "cheering up," but Rachel was so excited about her plan that he couldn't tell her no. Besides, she only made him go so that they could go out immediately after, and she promised to let him pick the place. He teased her that she would regret that later, but truthfully, all he wanted was to drink a few (several) beers and shoot some pool or maybe throw a few darts. There was actually a really cool, low-key bar just off-campus that was perfect for that. Rachel had never been there, but Puck had been several times with Finn after scouting out all the places around NYU and their apartment to find the ones that were safe for them to use their fakes, and he didn't think she would hate the place. Sure, the night was supposed to be about him and helping him erase the day from Hell, but he knew he wouldn't be able to enjoy himself unless she did, too.

Rachel got out of her costume and washed her face in record time. She even _almost_ blew off some girls from her English class who stayed after the show to tell her how well she did. (Really, it would have been incredibly rude to ignore them altogether, but she did make it a point to keep the conversation as short as possible.) She was meeting up with Puck in the lobby only 10 minutes after the last curtain call, the fastest she had ever managed to leave a theatre.

Puck had been a little worried that, for all her good intentions, Rachel would not be the best "boys' night out" companion. She was, after all, not only _not_ a boy, but she was probably the girliest, most un-boy girl in the world. He was wrong. Sure, she had pouted a little when they walked in and he headed straight for one of the open pool tables because she had no idea how to play. But then he offered to teach her, and she gave him that awesome Rachel smile before skipping off to the bar to get their first round (vodka and water with what looked to be 15 lemons and limes for her, Yuengling for him – he hadn't known beer could actually taste good until he left Ohio).

Teaching Rachel to play pool may just have been one of the most interesting things he'd ever done. It had been so long since he'd seen her do something she wasn't already amazing at that he almost forgot such things existed. Her first few strokes were awful, barely moving the cue ball six inches. Finally she gave in and let him hold her from behind, guiding her arms with his own. Once she had the correct form and was actually following through on her shots, she was able to really move the cue ball across the felt and actually make contact with one of the colored balls. The first time she knocked a ball into one of the pockets, she squealed and jumped to throw her arms around his neck, her smile nearly splitting her face in half. He didn't bother reminding her that she was solids, or that the 14 was almost as far off as she could get. By their third game, she had actually managed to sink three of her balls (and one of his) before he won.

For the first hour or so, a waitress kept stopping by every time Puck's bottle was less than half full. However, she soon realized that he was paying much more attention to the tiny brunette sharing his table than to her and left them to take care of their own drinks. Shortly into their fourth game, a very polite blonde gentleman stepped up to the table to ask if Rachel might possibly let him have a round with Puck, since there were no other open tables, and his girlfriend didn't really want to play anyway. The sweet looking redhead waved at her from the bar-top table the couple had been sharing and Rachel happily agreed; she could already tell that it would be difficult for her to lift her arm enough to even dry her hair in the morning. When Puck had three balls left and it was pretty clear that she wasn't going to be getting another turn, Rachel excused herself to the bar to get another round for them and their new companions.

Puck didn't realize that Rachel had been gone for a full game and several strokes into the next. Mark was a much better player than her, and Puck was enjoying playing with him so much that he didn't really notice when he finished the beer he was working on and there wasn't another one waiting for him. In fact, he didn't notice much of anything until Mark's girlfriend Katelyn, whom he had assumed had been talking to Rachel while the two men played, appeared at his side.

"Umm, excuse me," Katelyn tapped him timidly on the shoulder and looked up at him sheepishly from beneath her lashes when he turned to face her.

"Oh, hey," Puck unconsciously scanned the room when Katelyn requested his attention and he didn't see Rachel at her side. "What's up? Wanna play with your boy? We're almost done here, just let me sink these last two and show him how a real man does it." Puck chuckled and Mark only scoffed good-naturedly and rolled his eyes.

"No, umm, I just … well, you might want to go rescue your girlfriend."

"She's not my -," Puck started, but stopped abruptly when his eyes followed the path marked by Katelyn's lifted arm. "Shit." He tossed his stick onto the table and began making his way determinedly toward the bar, where Rachel was currently being fenced in by the arms of some preppy-looking, bow-tie-wearing douche. "Thanks," he called over his shoulder, "table's all yours."

Rachel's eyes, which had been dangerously close to bugging out of her head ever since about the fifth word out of _Brad's_ mouth (and really, what kind of name was 'Brad' anyway – a snobby one with no character, just like its owner), softened dramatically when she saw Puck headed in her direction. She had tried to handle the situation herself without disturbing him, since it was supposed to be his night and all, but if she had to tell this Neanderthal one more time that she wasn't interested or that she had a boyfriend, her version of 'handling it' would be a knee to the groin.

"Hey B, what's up?" Puck sidled up to the pair at the bar and unceremoniously lifted one of Brad's wrists so that his hand came away from the wood of the bar, freeing up one of Rachel's sides. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her so that she was barely on the stool, his hip supporting almost as much of her weight as the seat was.

"Yeah, um, who are you?" Brad did not seem happy to have his efforts at getting Rachel interested in him thwarted by Puck. He left one arm propped up on the bar at Rachel's side while shoving the other hand in his pocket, an attempt at nonchalance.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Puck feigned sincerity while Rachel watched him, a little afraid of what would come next. He reached into his back pocket with his free hand and fished out his wallet, holding it in front of him and flipping it open so that Brad could see the clear plastic window reserved for identification. "Wanna see my id?"

Brad rolled his eyes and mumbled under his breath. "Smart ass."

"No, really," Puck insisted, still putting on a face of pure innocence, "here, look at my driver's license, then Rach'll show you hers, and you can see that _we have the same address."_ Any humor or good nature dropped from his voice at the end, and he sounded only cold and hard as he leaned a bit closer to Brad.

Puck could only smirk, and Rachel had to lower her head to hide her face, when Brad's eyes almost doubled in size and he lifted his hands to back away in defeat. "Right, umm, yeah, I'm just gonna," Brad was gone before he actually finished his sentence. If anything, Puck was in better shape than he had been in high school, and he didn't hesitate to use his intimidating stature to his advantage. He was not the 'boyfriend' that a random guy in a bar would want to have to answer to.

"I still can't believe you said that," Rachel giggled, burying her head in Puck's shoulder an hour later. They had practically followed Brad out of the bar, and were resting on their couch in their pajamas only 20 minutes after Puck had scared him away.

"What, it's true ain't it?"

"Well, yes …"

"Rach, even if my boy wasn't in love with you, you're still my best friend, and I could never let you hook up with a guy like that. Did you see his hands?"

"I-I shook his hand. What does that have to do with anything?"

Rachel gasped a little, surprised, when Puck reached under the blanket she was clutching to her chin and grasped her hand in his own. He only laughed at her and let his head drop back onto the back of the couch while he waited for her to relax. For a girl who had been best friends with him for damn near two years now, she still managed to somehow work herself up every time he touched her or sent a (completely innocent, harmless) sexual innuendo her way. If she wasn't Rachel, all innocent and head over heels in love with Finn, he might be offended. "Okay," he sighed, once he finally felt her relax and grip his hand back, "feel the difference?"

"Well," she hesitated, "yes. I mean, Brad's hands were very smooth, very soft. Yours are, well, I don't mean to be rude, Noah, and you know you're my best friend, but your hands are quite callused."

Puck rolled his eyes behind his closed eyelids. Seriously? He was proud of his calluses. "Yeah. And what about Finn? Are his hands _soft_ like Brad's?" He knew his voice was mocking, but Hell, when wasn't it when he was talking to Rachel? That's just who they were. He wouldn't have it any other way, and while she might complain about him and ride his ass about 'living up to who she knew he was on the inside,' he knew she wouldn't either.

Rachel hesitated a long moment before saying anything. She didn't know how to answer that question, exactly. She loved Finn, and he deserved to have a good girlfriend who stood up for him, but she couldn't lie to Noah either. "Well … they're, I mean I guess, well, no. Finn's hands aren't _quite_ as soft Brad's, but -,"

Puck's laugh cut her off. "It's ok, B. You're not insulting him. 'S kinda my point, actually. I mean, my hands are all covered in calluses from my axe, and the pool cleanin' and random construction shit I done. And Finn's might not be callused like mine, but they ain't all baby smooth like _Brad's_ either. I mean, he's done his share of real work, ya know, with Burt at the shop and stuff. And drums ain't a guitar, but the friction keeps his hands from bein' like, like … an accountant's or something."

Rachel only stared at him, his head still lolling back on the couch. He must have felt her watching him, because he sighed deeply and picked up where he had left off. "Babe, no guy with hands like that could handle you. You're as high maintenance as they come, Rach, and you need somebody who ain't afraid to get a little roughed up. And don't pull that face on me." Puck's eyes were still closed, but he knew that Rachel's nose was wrinkled up like a rabbit or something and her jaw was nearly to the floor. He pulled his hand from hers and slid it out from under the blanket to drop it across her shoulders. "That's why you got me and Hudson. We love ya anyway."

There were so many things in Rachel's mind, so many things she wanted to say to him for calling her 'high maintenance,' but she knew that she couldn't really say anything at all. It certainly wasn't untrue. And he did say he loved her anyway. So instead, she only settled against him so that her shoulder was tucked into his underarm and her head rested on his shoulder. She watched the news in silence for several minutes, almost waiting to feel his breath even out and his weight slump against her. When it never did, she spoke up again. "I'm really, truly in love with Finn, and I can't imagine my life without him, you know?"

Rachel said the words as a question, but Puck heard them almost as more of an accusation. He shot into an upright position and pulled his arm from her body, resting it on the back of the couch. "I know that Rach! You think I was tryin' somethin' here?" His eyes were wide and his voice was laced with shock and near-anger. She only continued as if he had said nothing.

"But I love you too. Obviously, in a different way, but it's true. You're like, my rock, to quote a dangerously overused cliché. Finn lets me fly, and while you are wonderfully supportive and have always pushed me to pursue my dreams, you also keep me grounded. So I can't picture a single second of my life without you in it, either."

"Yeah, well," the tension left Puck's body as quickly as it had flooded it and he sank back down with her, "I'm just glad Finn let me _stay_ in it."

What started out as a soft smile spreading across Rachel's face soon erupted into a fit of giggles.

"What the Hell's so funny?" Puck craned his neck to see her face, which was almost buried in his chest.

"Remember that night back before Christmas, when I came over to help Sarah?" Puck almost didn't catch the first part, but by the time she hit the word 'Christmas,' Rachel had almost stopped laughing.

"Yeah. What about it?"

"When Finn was driving me home, he said the same thing about you."


End file.
